A Christmas Promise

by Joanna Barker

  “Do you think . . .” Meg glanced at Lucy and bit her lip. “Might Mr. Matthews ask me for a dance?”

  “How could he not?” Lucy answered. She prayed that the man would do so. It would mean so much to Meg.

  Meg turned back toward the mirror. She gave a practice curtsy, then shifted her feet, lowered her shoulders, and did it again.

  When Meg dipped down, Lucy studied her own new accessory in the mirror, a pearled bandeau with silk flowers that Meg had woven through her tresses. She felt nervous as well. Had Captain Stewart felt obligated to attend the dance in Quentlin Ferry because of her? He’d acted as if he were happy about the prospect, but how could she be certain? Would he ask her to dance? The thought made her hands tremble. She balled them into fists, holding them tight, then opened them and let out a slow breath.

  Music started, the sound coming from the reception room above them.

  Meg gasped, looking upward. “Oh, it is time.”

  Lucy held out her elbow, putting on a cheerful face in spite of her nervousness. “Shall we?”

  The two linked arms, sharing an excited smile, and made their way to the upper floor of the inn.

  The reception room was extremely crowded, with tables of refreshments at one end of the long room and a quartet at the other. In the center, couples danced a cotillion.

  Lucy and Meg kept their arms linked together, both for moral support and to avoid being separated in the crowd of strangers. They walked along the edge of the reception hall, out of the way of the dancers, scooting between couples flirting, old ladies gossiping, and friends enjoying a holiday visit.

  “I can’t believe so many people fit in this one room,” Lucy said, feeling a drip of sweat roll down her back. “Surely they will open a window soon.” She unfolded the fan hanging on her wrist and waved it in front of her face.

  They moved past a group of older gentlemen. Ahead, near a table holding a punch bowl, an officer and a soldier came into view, looking resplendent in scarlet regimental jackets and freshly shined boots.

  Beside her, Meg drew in a quick breath and squeezed her arm.

  Lucy’s stomach flipped over.

  Captain Stewart met Lucy’s gaze, holding it steadily as he came toward her. His eyes were softer than she’d seen before. His smile was warm. When he reached them, he took Lucy’s hand, lifting it as he bowed. “Good evening, Miss Breckenridge.”

  Lucy dipped in a curtsy. “Good evening, Captain.” Her fingers tingled in her gloves.

  His eyes held hers a moment longer, before he released her hand and turned to take Meg’s. “Miss Riley.”

  Meg curtsied as well.

  “You ladies look especially lovely this evening. Do they not, Matthews?”

  Mr. Matthews nodded and bowed. His eyes lingered on Meg, and her cheeks flamed red.

  “Miss Riley,” Matthews said in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He took her hand.

  Captain Stewart’s eyes widened.

  Meg’s blush deepened.

  Lucy’s smile grew.

  Mr. Matthews placed Meg’s hand on his arm. He inclined his head, excusing them, and led her away through the crowd.

  Captain Stewart watched the pair go.

  “Meg looks happy, doesn’t she?” Lucy said. “And perhaps Mr. Matthews’s condition is improving.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. His voice was thoughtful as his gaze followed the couple. His brows drew together.

  “You’re concerned about him,” Lucy said. She fanned herself with more force, feeling defensive of her friend.

  “I am.”

  “You can trust Meg,” she said. “She will not cause him distress. She cares about him.”

  Captain Stewart turned back toward Lucy. His brow was still wrinkled. “I do trust her. But I worry about Matthews. I’ve not heard him speak in years, and I . . . I just hope he can manage the changes happening in his life.”

  “His eyes look much less sad than when we first met him,” Lucy pointed out. “Perhaps he is healing.”

  He nodded. His face relaxed slowly, and he tilted his head, his eyes softening. He smiled. “Miss Breckenridge, have I told you how utterly enchanting you look this evening?”

  She looked down to hide the flush that his words created, brushing her hands over her skirts. “It is just an evening dress—I didn’t pack a ball gown.”

  “I wasn’t speaking about your dress.” He took her hand in his, studying her face. “It is your eyes, I think. Or perhaps your smile.”

  “Thank you, sir. You look very handsome tonight as well.”

  “Would you join me in a dance?” he asked, motioning with a tilt of his head toward the center of the room. The music had changed, and couples were taking their positions for a quadrille.

  Lucy nodded and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

  Captain Stewart, as it turned out, was an exceptional dancer. Lucy began to wonder if there was anything the man could not do. His posture was straight, his motions sure as he moved through the steps. And when it was the turn of the other couple in their set, his eyes found hers, holding that same soft expression that made her chest feel light and her knees soft.

  Lucy saw Meg and Mr. Matthews dancing on the other side of the room, and she could not help but be pleased at the happy expression on her friend’s face. She believed that Mr. Matthews was healing and thought Captain Stewart’s worries misplaced.

  Their turn came again, and Lucy and the captain took hands, stepping along with the music. Lucy had performed the quadrille numerous times over the years, but the dance had never felt so magical. Each touch of the captain’s hand sent warm shivers up her arm, and each smile made her heart expand and its beat intensify to the point of a dull ache. He reached behind her, clasping her hand as they spun, and his gaze locked on to hers, making her feel as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them. When they drew apart, Lucy’s feet moved on their own, stepping back into her position. Captain Stewart’s eyes stayed on her, and the others around them were reduced to blurry images.

  When they left the dance floor at last, Captain Stewart brought her to the edge of the room, giving a formal bow.

  Lucy opened her fan again, waving it beneath her chin to create a breeze. But this time, she could not fully blame the crowded room for causing her to become overheated. She glanced up at the captain, enjoying the rush of nerves and the jump in her chest when he looked back.

  “Perhaps a cool drink?” The captain indicated the table with the punch bowl. He ladled punch into a cup, which Lucy gratefully accepted.

  “You are a fine dancer, Captain,” she said, feeling as though she should make some conversation to shake off her fanciful thoughts.

  He opened his mouth to reply, but before he had a chance, a voice called his name. They turned to find Miss Pembroke bustling through the crowd toward them. She was accompanied by a lanky gentleman with protruding cheekbones who seemed near her age.

  “Oh, Captain Stewart, you did come after all,” Miss Pembroke said when she reached them.

  Lucy’s eyes went wide at the sight of the woman’s dress, which was extremely revealing, low in the front and even lower in the back, showing quite a bit of her spine and shoulders. The style was quite shocking, especially for a woman of her age.

  Lucy took a sip of the fruity drink.

  “Miss Pembroke.” Captain Stewart bowed. “How nice to see you again.”

  “And Miss Breckenridge, your bandeau is just the thing to spruce up a plain dress.”

  The woman’s expression contained no malice, and Lucy decided that Miss Pembroke had intended to pay a compliment. “Thank you. Your gown is lovely, Miss Pembroke,” she said. “Very fashionable.”

  Miss Pembroke closed her eyes, giving a slow nod as a gracious acceptance. She held her hand to the side, pointing with her palm up at the man beside her. “Might I introduce my brother, Miss Breckenridge?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Thomas Pembroke, all
ow me to present Miss Breckenridge and Captain Stewart.”

  The two exchanged greetings with the slender man. Now that Lucy looked closer, she could see the family resemblance in Mr. Pembroke’s wide eyes, though his nose was not as long.

  “I was just telling Thomas how pleasant it was to meet you this afternoon, Captain Stewart,” Miss Pembroke said. “It’s not often that I have a military officer in my shop.”

  “I say,” Mr. Pembroke cut in. “What type of punch is that?”

  “Ratafia,” Captain Stewart said. “It is very good. Shall I pour you some?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Mr. Pembroke smacked his lips. “I do enjoy a good ratafia now and then.”

  “And would you care for punch as well?” Captain Stewart asked Miss Pembroke.

  “Oh, no thank you,” she said. “I am rather chilly this evening.”

  Captain Stewart took Lucy’s empty cup, set it on the table, and poured Mr. Pembroke’s punch.

  “Oh.” Miss Pembroke put her hand behind her ear. “I believe the orchestra is playing a Scotch reel. It is my favorite dance, and you know I am quite adept at the steps. I imagine you are as well, Captain?” She stared at him with a wide-eyed, expectant expression.

  His brow ticked, but that was the only indication that he found her behavior surprising. “Miss Pembroke, I would be remiss if I passed up the opportunity to dance the Scotch reel with an accomplished dancer such as yourself.” He offered his hand.

  Miss Pembroke smiled widely as she took it and stepped quickly to the dance floor, pulling Captain Stewart along with her.

  Lucy smiled, pleased that Captain Stewart was so polite to Miss Pembroke, even when the woman was so peculiar. How he treated people said a lot about the man’s character. He certainly had treated her well, and he took care of Mr. Matthews like a brother. Her chest warmed as she watched him take his place on the dance floor.

  Mr. Pembroke set his cup on the table and wiped his sleeve over his lips. “Might you wish to dance, Miss Breckenreid?”

  She smiled, following Captain Stewart’s example of politeness, even though the man had called her by the wrong name. “Certainly.”

  When the Scotch reel ended, Mr. Pembroke returned Lucy to the side of the room and introduced her to an elderly gentleman, a Mr. Wilkinson who, he explained, was his uncle. While Lucy danced with Mr. Wilkinson, she scanned the room for her friends, seeing Meg and Mr. Matthews near the punch table and Captain Stewart visiting with Miss Pembroke and a group of women. Miss Pembroke rested a hand on his arm.

  At last, the dance with Mr. Wilkinson ended, and he returned her to the side of the room.

  Captain Stewart caught Lucy’s eye. He excused himself from the group of women and offered to dance with her once more. She happily accepted.

  Lucy took her place facing Captain Stewart, noticing how straight he stood. He cut an impressive figure, tall and broad shouldered. She, of course, had noticed that he was handsome before, but tonight, something about him seemed different. Perhaps it was the candlelight shining in his eyes and gleaming on his dark curls. Or maybe it was the soft smile that made her heart race whenever he caught her gaze.

  Captain Stewart took her hand and released it as they passed, moving among the other dancers. When they came together again, his touch sent her stomach rolling, and a realization struck Lucy with a jolt. She was falling in love with Captain Stewart. The thought was so surprising that she hesitated, making one of the other men stumble to keep from colliding with her.

  When she turned back to face Captain Stewart, her cheeks felt hot, and she found it nearly impossible to look him in the eye. Could it be true? Her thoughts were fuzzy as she considered how this could have possibly happened. And what did it mean?

  The dance continued, but instead of feeling magical, the music sounded loud and the room was too crowded. Everything moved too quickly, and people were too close. Lucy took deep breaths. When the music stopped at last, Captain Stewart put an arm around her, leading her from the floor. “Are you all right, Miss Breckenridge? You’re flushed.” He looked worried, which made her heart race even more.

  She nodded, feeling foolish for her reaction. “I’m just overheated, I think.”

  “It is very hot in here.” He unfolded her fan, putting it into her hand. “Shall I bring more punch? Or we can go outside for some air.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, her embarrassment making her even hotter. She waved the fan in front of herself. “Perhaps if I just stand near the window for a moment.”

  They moved to the wall where one of the windows was cracked open, and Lucy stood in the cool breeze. She needed to get control of her emotions and stop romanticizing. Captain Stewart was a gentleman who treated everyone with kindness. It was time to stop seeing in his attentions more than what was there.

  He pulled off a glove and touched the back of his fingers to her forehead. “You feel warm. Are you certain you’re all right?”

  Lucy nodded. “Yes. I’m so sorry.” The breeze was helping.

  “Do not apologize.” He left and returned with another cup of punch, instructing her to drink the entire thing.

  She did, glad for something to do besides blush and act ridiculous.

  “There now.” Captain Stewart took the cup when she finished. “I believe your coloring has nearly returned to normal.”

  “I feel much better. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad of it,” he said, balancing the cup on the windowsill.

  From the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Miss Pembroke walking past. The older woman moved slowly, eyes downcast, not appearing to notice them.

  “I think Miss Pembroke is hoping for another dance,” Lucy said.

  He glanced at the woman. “I did intend to dance again, but I hoped you would be my partner. Once you’re recovered.”

  “A third dance?” If her skin were not already red, she would have blushed at his implication. “Captain, that is unseemly.”

  He shrugged, giving a teasing smile. “Are you worried about gossip? Your reputation?” He leaned closer and put his hand to the side of his mouth as if sharing a secret. “Nobody knows us here, Miss Breckenridge. We can dance as often as we like.”

  “Captain! Miss!” Meg rushed up to them, her eyes wide. She looked to be on the edge of panic.

  “What is it, Meg?” Lucy took her friend’s hand, her brows drawing together. “What has happened?”

  “It’s Mr. Matthews.” Meg’s lip quivered, and tears spilled from her eyes. “He’s run away!”

  Chapter 6

  James’s stomach plummeted at Miss Riley’s words, and in spite of them, he looked around the room for his friend, hoping to see him among the crowd.

  “Oh, Meg.” Miss Breckenridge put an arm around the young lady’s shoulders. “Come, let’s find somewhere quiet, and you must tell us what happened.”

  James agreed. He produced a handkerchief for the weeping Miss Riley and escorted the women from the ballroom.

  As they walked, he watched Miss Breckenridge closely, hoping that she had indeed recovered from her spell. Seeing her flushed and shaky had been unsettling, and he worried that in her desire to help her friend, she would neglect her own health. What if she’d contracted a fever? He rubbed his eyes, his concern for the young lady and Matthews making his muscles tense.

  They descended the staircase and came to the inn’s dining area. The room was nearly empty, with only a few patrons here and there enjoying a drink. James searched the faces, but he was disappointed again when Matthews was not one of them. Where had he gone?

  The three sat at an empty table, and seeing them, Mr. Owens came from another table to join them.

  Miss Breckenridge scooted her chair close to Miss Riley’s and took the young lady’s hand. “Now tell us what happened, Meg.”

  Miss Riley glanced at the others through her teary eyes. “Everything seemed to be going so well,” she said, wiping her nose with the handkerchief. “Mr. Matthews and I danced and ate refreshments. He appear
ed to be happy. I didn’t mean . . .” She shook her head, sobbing.

  James tapped his fingers on the table, forcing himself to be calm.

  Miss Breckenridge must have seen his impatience because she gave Miss Riley’s shoulder a gentle shake. “If we are to help Mr. Matthews, we need to know what happened.” Her voice had a calm firmness to it.

  Miss Riley nodded, gathering in a deep breath. “We went for a walk. The assembly room was so warm, and—”

  “And where did you go?” James asked.

  “We stopped near the churchyard.” She fidgeted with the handkerchief. “At the wall.”

  “Go on,” Miss Breckenridge urged. “What happened next?”

  Miss Riley glanced at the men, then back down at her handkerchief. “Mr. Matthews . . . he— Well, he and I . . . we kissed.” She looked up at Miss Breckenridge, apparently too embarrassed to meet the eye of either of the men. “Then he just left.”

  “Oh my,” Miss Breckenridge said. She looked at James, confusion and worry playing over her features

  “Did he say anything?” James asked Miss Riley.

  “He said he was sorry,” Miss Riley whispered. Her chin trembled.

  “Which way did he go?” Mr. Owens asked.

  Miss Riley sobbed again, pressing the handkerchief to her face. “Toward the bridge.”

  James’s mouth went dry. He jumped to his feet and started for the door.

  “Wait, Captain,” Miss Breckenridge said. “We’re coming with you.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  The young lady didn’t pay any attention. “Fetch our coats, Meg.”

  Mr. Owens hurried out the door, but James stopped. “Miss Breckenridge, there is no time to spare.”

  “You intend to go toward the bridge,” she said. “We will search in the other direction.”

  “It is too dangerous for young ladies in the darkness.” His words did not hold the unequivocal tone he’d intended. She was right. More searchers gave a better chance of finding Matthews. He frowned. “Do not go past the town limits,” he said. “And stay with Miss Riley.”

  Miss Breckenridge gave his arm a push. “Go, Captain. Your friend needs you.”